Playing with Fire (6 page)

‘‘No wards. Hmm. Interesting.’’ Dr. Kostich may have been concerned enough about his neighbors to see to the warding of the house, but he obviously didn’t fear intrusion via the gate. There was a small padlock on this side, but it didn’t require much finessing at all to open it. I let the padlock drop to the ground as I shook my head at the door. ‘‘Just a few arcane protection spells . . . ineffectual at best.’’

‘‘Totally lame,’’ a male voice agreed behind me.

I shadowed immediately, spinning around to see who had managed to creep up on me unawares.

A large furry black dog gazed at me with its mouth slightly opened, its tail wagging gently in the balmy evening breeze.

I looked around quickly for the dog’s owner, but my eyes slowly returned to it as I realized the truth.

‘‘Yup, that’s right, you’re not seeing things. I’m a demon. Sixth class, if that helps. Whatcha doing?’’ The demon dog took a step closer to me, snuffled my legs, then tipped its head to the side. ‘‘Wow. Doppelganger. I’ve only seen one other of you guys. I didn’t realize there were two of you in Europe.’’

‘‘There are three of us, actually. One is in France, and one is in Rome,’’ I answered, my gaze trying to pierce the shadows cast by the trees. I didn’t see anyone else out there, but if there was a demon here . . . ‘‘Who are you, demon?’’

‘‘Now, you know, I could refuse to answer that, since you didn’t summon me and all, but Ash gets annoyed when I display what she calls bad manners, so I’m going to play nice. Name’s Jim. Effrijim, really, but no one calls me that except Aisling when she’s really pissy. What’s your name?’’

‘‘That’s not pertinent,’’ I said firmly, thinking as fast as I could. If there was a demon here, someone must have sent it . . . but for what purpose? And who had set the demon to watch the gate? Dr. Kostich? That didn’t make any sense—mages could technically summon demons, but I’d never heard of one doing so, not while they had arcane abilities at their fingertips to achieve whatever they wanted. ‘‘Who sent you, Effrijim?’’

‘‘No one sent me. I’m just doing my walkies,’’ the demon answered, sniffing my legs again. I stepped back, pulling the shadows tighter around me. I knew it would do little good—experienced demons could sometimes sense even those who shadow walked—but it made me feel less open to prying eyes.

‘‘Your . . . walkies?’’

‘‘Yeah, you know, walkies. Constitutional. Pinchin’ a loaf,’’ it said with a particularly annoying chuckle.

I opened my mouth to point out . . . well, I didn’t know what to point out, so many thoughts were tumbling through my mind. Instead I shook my head at my own folly, and with a firm look, asked the demon who its master was.

‘‘Aisling. She’s inside, if you want to have a chat with her, although she’s a bit cranky because Drake made her come home early from the theater,’’ the demon answered, nodding toward the house. I spun around, alarm skittering down my back at the sight of the house Cyrene had crept through—now aglow with lights.

‘‘Agathos daimon,’’
I swore under my breath, reaching for the switch on the radio pack strapped to my belt. ‘‘Psst! Stop swooning over the fish pond and get over here. Carefully! The people who rented the house are here, and . . . and . . . oh, just get over here.’’

‘‘What? Goddess! I’ll be right there,’’ her breathy voice whispered in my ear.

‘‘I didn’t realize your master had taken over the house yet,’’ I told the demon named Jim. ‘‘I mean her no harm, and I’ll leave in a minute, I swear.’’

‘‘I’m here, I’m here,’’ Cyrene said as she hurried out of the shadowed edge of the lawn. ‘‘What happened? I thought you said the people wouldn’t come this late at night. Oh! A doggy!’’

Jim turned its head and winked at her. ‘‘Hiya, babycakes.’’

Cyrene clapped her hands in delight. ‘‘A demon! May, where did you find a demon? Can we keep it? I’ve always wanted a demon of my own.’’

‘‘No, you haven’t,’’ I told her, pulling her away from where she was patting the demon on its head. ‘‘And thank you so much for using my name in front of it. Come on, I have to get you out of here without anyone else seeing you.’’

‘‘But—’’ she started to say as I grabbed her wrist and pulled her after me, sticking close to the fence in an attempt to avoid being seen from the house. ‘‘But, May—’’

‘‘Shh!’’

‘‘I wouldn’t go that way, if I were you,’’ Jim called out after us.

I gritted my teeth and turned back toward it. It ambled over to us with a raised eyebrow.

‘‘Why not?’’ I asked.

‘‘Drake takes his protection very seriously,’’ it answered, pausing to scratch at its shoulder. ‘‘Pál and István always go over the perimeter before they set the alarms.’’

I swore under my breath again, spinning around to eye the garden. The opposite side was no use—the house was butted up against a cliff. If we couldn’t go out the way I came, there were only two choices—Dr. Kostich’s garden, or the beach.

‘‘Beach,’’ I said quickly, doing an about-face as I hauled Cyrene toward the water.

‘‘They set up motion sensors out there this morning,’’ Jim said, following. ‘‘In case, ya know, someone tries to get in from the water.’’

‘‘Who is Drake?’’ Cyrene asked the demon. ‘‘Who are Pál and István?’’

‘‘Drake’s bodyguards,’’ it answered, laughter visible in its eyes as I did a circle trying to find another way out of the garden. ‘‘Drake is a wyvern. Green dragons.’’

‘‘Dragons!’’ Cyrene gasped, her eyes widening in delight. ‘‘May, did you hear that? Dragons! He must be that dragon who married the Guardian we read about! You know, the one who’s a demon lord. Can we—’’

‘‘No! OK, new plan. We’re both going into Kostich’s garden. He only seems to use arcane magic, none of this high-tech stuff the dragons favor,’’ I said with a frown at the demon. It smiled at me. ‘‘I’ll get you out, and we can resume the plan. OK?’’

‘‘Well, all right, but you know, I’m willing to bet that the dragons and this Guardian can help us—’’ She started to walk toward the house.

‘‘Cy, no!’’ I said, stopping her. ‘‘We don’t need help! We’ll be OK so long as we stick to the plan.’’

‘‘Cy, huh?’’ Jim asked, making me swear at myself for the slip of my tongue.

‘‘It’s Cyrene, really. Only May calls me by the abbreviation,’’ she told it.

‘‘Oh, great. Now it knows both our names,’’ I groaned, wanting to bang my head on the brick wall until this farce of an evening ended.

‘‘So?’’ she asked, rubbing its ears as it leaned into her, groaning with pleasure.

‘‘So now it’s going to go back to its master and tell her everything.’’

‘‘Would I do that?’’ Jim asked, its eyes closed in bliss.

I frowned at it as it peeked at me.

‘‘Yeah, OK, I would,’’ it said with a laugh. ‘‘Guess the only thing you can do to keep me quiet is take me with you.’’

‘‘For the love of . . . no!’’

‘‘Oh, but May!’’ Cyrene said, patting it on its furry head.

‘‘Absolutely not. We’ve got enough trouble without having a demon tagging along.’’

‘‘It could help us!’’ she protested as I moved over to the door, feeling it again for signs of any magic I might have missed earlier. There was nothing but the arcane spells the mage had bound into the door.

‘‘How can a demon help us?’’ I asked, hoping to point out the irrationality of her statement.

‘‘Distraction,’’ the demon answered quickly. ‘‘You want to get your twin out, right? What could cause more attention than a demon? I drag everyone over to one side of the yard, and bingo! You take the lovely Cyrene out the other side.’’

‘‘Yes! What a good plan!’’ she said, nodding vigorously.

‘‘Uh-huh. And who’s to say that Jim isn’t going to sound an alarm when I’m getting you out of the garden?’’

Cyrene’s face, filled with hope, fell. Before she could answer, the demon snorted. ‘‘Are you kidding? Kostich almost killed Ash last year. There’s no way I’m going to do him a favor.’’

‘‘Then why did your master take a house next to him?’’ I couldn’t help but ask.

‘‘She didn’t know until we got here who lived next door.’’ Jim smiled again. ‘‘She went all potty mouth when she found out, too, but Drake pointed out she wouldn’t have to see Kostich unless she wanted to. You don’t have to worry that there’s any love lost between Aisling and Kostich.’’

‘‘There, you see?’’

The triumph in Cyrene’s voice was an indication that I wasn’t going to rid her of this idea without a whole lot more trouble than I was prepared to go through. Rather than argue the situation for the next fifteen minutes—increasing the chances that the dragons would come out to see what was keeping their demon—I gave in to the inevitable, and opened the door to Dr. Kostich’s garden.

‘‘Stay back and out of sight until I tell you to cause a distraction,’’ I told the demon, grabbing it by its collar as it nodded. ‘‘And so help me, demon, if you betray us, I will hunt you down and—’’

‘‘Yeah, yeah, do horrible things to me with a small fruit knife and a couple of nipple clamps. Heard it before, sister,’’ it said, brushing past me to enter the garden.

I was about to order it behind me when a blast of blue-white light exploded in front of me, knocking me backwards against Cyrene. There was little noise, but an intense heat and light that blinded me for a few minutes.

‘‘Agamemnon’s balls!’’ I heard Cyrene exclaim from beneath me. I rolled off her and scrambled to my feet as my vision slowly returned.

‘‘Are you all right?’’ I asked.

‘‘Yes. Except I’m seeing stars.’’

‘‘It’s from the explosion. It’ll pass.’’

‘‘I think it’s more from your head hitting my chin,’’ she said, rubbing her jaw as she got to her knees. She looked up, gasping. ‘‘May! The demon!’’

I turned to look. I don’t know what sort of magic was in the trap that the mage had evidently laid just beyond the gate, but it left the demon’s form in flames.

‘‘Help it! It’ll die!’’

‘‘Demons can’t die, you know that,’’ I answered, snatching Cyrene’s lightweight jacket to smother the still-burning blue flames. Although there hadn’t been much noise, evidently the blast of light was enough to alert members of Kostich’s household to a possible intruder, as lights started appearing at the back of the house.

‘‘Help me move it back to the other side before they see us,’’ I hissed, hoisting the demon dog’s heavy front end in my arms. Cyrene stumbled over to us, half lifting, half dragging its back end.

I released the dog as soon as it cleared the doorway, quickly closing the gate and using Cy’s jacket to tie it shut. ‘‘It’s not much, but it might fool them into thinking the gate wasn’t used. Or at least stall them until we can get out of here. Come on, we’ll just have to chance the front fence.’’

‘‘Mayling!’’ Cyrene jerked me back to where the inert form of the demon lay. ‘‘We can’t just leave . . . what did you say its name was?’’

‘‘Jim, and yes, we can. It’s not going to die, Cyrene. It’s a demon.’’

‘‘But look at it!’’ she protested, pointing. ‘‘It’s hurt! Because of us! We can’t just abandon it when it’s unconscious!’’

Smoke curled up from various spots on the demon’s body. Blood was smeared across its face, its coat partially singed, the scent of burning hair hanging heavy in the air.

‘‘What if we destroyed its form?’’ Cyrene asked, kneeling beside it.

‘‘We can’t . . . ,’’ I started to say, but stopped. She was right. It was harmed doing something for us, and I couldn’t just walk away. ‘‘I don’t know what we can do, Cy. We can’t take it up to the house. The dragons—’’

‘‘Are no friends of Dr. Kostich,’’ she interrupted. ‘‘Come on. And stop making that face—you may work for a demon lord, but I know you. I created you! You’re not a heartless person, so let’s just get this poor demon to its people and then we can leave. All right?’’

‘‘Why do I have a feeling you’re enjoying this?’’ I grumbled as I picked up the front half of the dog.

She giggled as she lifted its rear legs. ‘‘I have to admit I’m looking forward to seeing real dragons. And famous ones! This Aisling Grey person was the subject of conversation at the Elemental Beings conference last month. It was a very romantic story. She met this wyvern and became a demon lord and then she had something happen to make her a prince of Abaddon . . .’’

We were puffing heavily by the time we got the heavy demon to the flagstones marking the edge of the patio area. Cyrene continued to tell me some convoluted story about the demon’s master—to be honest, it sounded far too bizarre to be real—but most of my attention was focused on how I was going to explain the situation to strangers, and more important, keep the existence of the quintessence secret. I might have never met any dragons, but their love of treasure was legendary; the quintessence would surely present a temptation they couldn’t ignore . . . and one I couldn’t let them have.

Chapter Four

‘‘Remember your promise,’’ I reminded Cyrene in a low voice as we set the demon on a chaise longue.

‘‘Which one? Oh! That one.’’ She nodded and made a gesture over her lips. ‘‘Locked tight, Mayling.’’

‘‘Good. I think we’re about to have company.’’ I straightened up and tried to adopt an innocent expression as two red-haired men burst out of the house, their body language (not to mention expressions) intimidating. I lifted my hands to show I was unarmed. ‘‘Good evening. I assume you are Pál and István?’’

‘‘I am Pál,’’ the taller of the two men said, stopping in front of me. He nodded to the stockier man, the one who watched us with hard, suspicious eyes. ‘‘He is István. What are you doing here?’’

I moved aside so the men could see the body of the demon lying on the chaise. The one named Istvàn started and gave a little cry, immediately kneeling down next to the demon. Before I could tell him the demon’s form wasn’t destroyed, it was just unconscious, the other man jerked me forward, twisting me around so his beefy forearm crushed my windpipe.